Poster Girl
by rke
Summary: A better wrap-up of the Lucy Caboosey fiasco.  "This could not be you," Rachel ground out, "because she," her voiced cracked, as she pointed towards the girl in the poster, "was my friend."


**Title:** Poster Girl  
><strong>Pairing:<strong> Rachel/Quinn  
><strong>RatingWord Count:** PG, ~1500  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> Belongs to FOX, RM & Co.  
><strong>Summary: <strong>"This could not be you," Rachel ground out, "because she," her voiced cracked, as she pointed towards the girl in the poster, "was my f_riend_."  
><strong>Spoilers: <strong>"Born this way" aka Lucy Caboosey fiasco.  
><strong>AN:** Un-beta'ed, so all mistakes are mine.

_Lucy Caboosey._

Rachel haphazardly pushed her way through the throng of students surrounding the bulletin board. When she had come upon the group, she'd assumed they were laughing at yet another humiliating announcement about her and made her way closer to try and rid herself of the offending poster.

It wasn't until she was standing front and center that she realized what she was looking at.

_Lucy Caboosey. _

She knew that name.

_Lucy Caboosey._

She repeated it under her breath, hoping that the verbal cue would somehow jumpstart her brain. The picture was familiar but at the same time confusing. It reminded her of two _very _different people. She closed her eyes briefly, willing her mind to just function properly and let her figure out what it was about this picture that made her feel so...lost.

She was vaguely aware of herself being forced out of the circle as others made their way to the front.

_Lucy Caboosey...Lucy Caboosey...Lucy..._

Her eyes snapped open and that's when it clicked. That's also when she spotted a very distressed Quinn Fabray hurtling herself down the hallway towards the group.

Later on, Rachel would attest quite vehemently that time had actually slowed to an extremely unbearable pace. She would argue that, indeed, it was as if she had been thrust underwater, everything swirling around her, voices muffled in the fluidity. She watched as Quinn, with slow, heaving breaths, forced her way to the bulletin board. The laughter from the other students was amplified and deep, it was like being in a fun house, except it wasn't fun. It was torturous. Rachel slammed her eyes shut, willing the sounds of utter humiliation to disappear. She knew that sound all too well and even when it wasn't directed at her, it still unraveled her. Quinn's anguished cry ripped Rachel back to reality, as the blonde ripped the poster down, it was like being sucked through a wormhole. It left Rachel reeling.

She watched as Quinn turned, frantically trying to get away from that place, from that awful torment. Rachel knew exactly how she felt. Without a word she followed after her, absently retrieving the poster, lest someone decide to put it up again.

When Rachel finally caught up to Quinn it was in the last place Rachel would've looked.

The stage was dark and silent, a quiet refuge from the overly bright hallways and a far cry from the snickers and jeers of the other students.

Rachel soundlessly made her way through the rows of seats and up onto her self-proclaimed wooden canvas. Quinn didn't turn as Rachel's soft foot falls echoed across the nearly empty space. She sat, shoulders slumped and shaking, on the same piano bench that she'd been sitting on the last time Rachel had confronted her here.

Last time was different though. Last time Rachel was merely upset. This time...she was infuriated.

"We seem to have a habit of making each other feel horrible here."

Rachel stopped in her tracks. Quinn's voice was ragged and Rachel didn't have to guess, she knew the other girl was beyond devastated, but she said nothing, remaining still and silent in her personal reverie.

"Go ahead Rachel," Quinn muttered defeatedly, "throw it all back in my face. Call me every miserable name you can think of."

Rachel closed the space between herself and the blonde, who had yet to turn around. Silently, Rachel wondered how she'd known it was her. She stopped, close enough to reach out and touch the other girls shoulder but she didn't. She stilled completely. Taken in by the cracks that were beginning to form in Quinn's armor.

"Why aren't you saying anything?" Quinn turned suddenly, her eyes red, her make-up running.

Rachel knew she had a habit of being overly dramatic, of turning on the hysterics and the waterworks unnecessarily but if anyone had ever bothered to get to know the real Rachel Berry they would have known that silence is the worst.

Quinn's gaze flitted down towards Rachel's hand, where she still held the poster. Her shoulders slumped as she took a less than steadying breath.

"_Please Rachel..."_ her voice hardly more than a whisper, "_please, get it over with."_

Rachel grasped the poster with shaky hands, slowly unfurling it.

She held it up, demandingly for the blonde to see. "Who is this?"

Quinn sighed heavily, "it's me, but you already know that so why are you asking?"

Rachel turned the poster back to herself and examined it, "Huh," with an angry cluck of her tongue, "that's funny because I know this person and she's certainly not sitting right in front of me." Rachel's words were starting to bite but she knew her anger was well placed when Quinn ducked her head into her hands.

"Rachel," she started.

"No," Rachel cut her off, "I would know if this was you, because this girl took ballet with me," she jutted her finger at the poster, "this girl was quiet and shy and sensitive. This girl didn't torment me, she didn't order organized slushie attacks on me, she didn't insult me every chance she got."

"Please, let me explain-" Quinn tried again.

"No!"

Quinn visibly flinched as Rachel's voiced echoed around the auditorium before dissipating into silence.

Rachel's chest heaved with anger, with restraint at trying to control it, because despite outward appearances, she _was_ still controlling the seething fury that had settled in her belly.

"This could not be you," Rachel ground out, "because she," her voiced cracked, as she pointed towards the girl in the poster, "was my _friend_." Tears began trailing their way down her cheeks. "And friends don't do to each other what you've done to me!"

"I didn't have a choice!" Quinn snapped, suddenly on her feet, bearing down on the shorter girl. "You were this perfect little package of a girl Rachel, and I was a monster. Ballet slimmed me, gymnastics trained me and cheerleading perfected me." Rachel didn't move as Quinn invaded her personal space. "I tore myself to pieces so that I could be rebuilt in a better image, an image that actually felt like me! I transferred to McKinley and suddenly I had everything I thought I was never going to have." Rachel felt a splash of tears on her cheeks, but she wasn't crying, Quinn was just that close. The blonde closed her eyes, the fire going out of her, she exhaled raggedly bending her head. Her forehead came to rest gently against Rachel's.

"You were the only who knew." Quinn whispered, her eyes still closed. "You were the only one who could destroy everything I'd worked so hard to build." She chuckled humorlessly, "joke's on me I guess, cause you managed to do it anyway." She opened her eyes, "I had no idea you were also coming to McKinley, I thought I had seen you for the last time."

Realization dawned softly in Rachel's eyes.

"When you left for Summer." Quinn nodded. Rachel bit back a sob. "You held me." Quinn nodded again, and Rachel felt those familiar, albeit skinnier, arms envelope her.

"You cried." Quinn managed a small regretful smile at the parallel moment. Rachel lifted her hands to cup Quinn's face.

"You were already beautiful." She murmured. Quinn's body shook as a sob over took her. She clung to Rachel, burying her head in the smaller girls shoulder and she cried.

Too exhausted to stand and support the other girl, Rachel let her knees buckle, and slowly guided them down to the stage floor, Quinn's sobs never stopping, her face never leaving the crook of Rachel's neck.

So they sat like that, kneeling in the middle of stage, neither would remember for how long.

"I had no idea," Rachel whispered against Quinn's ear. "I had no idea it was you. I'd never known your last name and...you were so different, so beautiful on the outside but so horrible within."

Quinn shifted, turning her head in towards Rachel's. "I know." She mumbled stuffily. "I was going to tell you Rachel." She felt more than heard Rachel scoff lightly. "I was...but that day I walked up to you in the hallway and you looked up at me with this completely blank expression, you didn't recognize me at all." Rachel nodded, she remembered that day. "And it hurt, Rachel. It hurt because...you were right. We were friends, you were my friend but you couldn't see it, you couldn't see me. And if you, one of the only people I'd ever let into my life, couldn't see me for who I was, then no one could."

"My first slushie facial." Rachel muttered lightly. Quinn dropped her head to Rachel's shoulder again, shaking.

"I'm so sorry."

"For what?" Rachel gently demanded. "For the slushie, for not giving me a chance? For what Quinn?"

Quinn sighed heavily, wrapping a gentle hand around Rachel's neck, bringing their heads together, cheek to cheek.

"For everything." Quinn murmured.


End file.
